


Just Put An Egg In It

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "Eggnog is made of egg, milk or cream, and sugar, and sometimes spices like cinnamon or nutmeg with optional alcohol. It was invented the night that the Easter Bunny and Santa got completely soused together."Bunny needs to relax. North has enough alcohol for that, even if Bunny’s not much of a drinker. Long after they’ve finally found something Bunny likes, they collaborate on a new drink. The next morning, Sandy approves, and Bunny decides not to ask too many questions.
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund/Nicholas St. North
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Eggnog Short Fics





	Just Put An Egg In It

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 10/26/2015.

“Bunny, you need to relax,” North says. They’re the last two Guardians at the Pole at the end of this year’s Christmas party. Tooth had left pleading duty, and Sandy had presumably left for the same reason, though his symbols had proclaimed with the grandiosity of the tipsy that he was going to go ‘do something very important.’  
  
 _Had_ the word been some _thing_ , though? Ah, well. That’s Sandy’s business. He still has one companion here, and they have all of the Pole’s cellars at their disposal. If only Bunny could be convinced of their merit, they could have an absolutely wonderful time. North adds more vodka to the incongruously tiny glass he holds, and pushes the bottle encouragingly toward Bunny.  
  
“I _am_ relaxed,” Bunny says.  
  
North raises an eyebrow. His powers of observation aren’t so far gone that he can't see that’s an obvious lie.  
  
“All right, I’m as relaxed as I should allow myself to be, as a Guardian.”  
  
North scoffs. “You are saying you are never less tense than this? How do you even move anymore? Your muscles must be like rusty springs.”  
  
“First of all, North, I thought you’d appreciate it that I’m staying alert right now. What if Pitch attacked right now?”  
  
“Pitch has never managed to ruin Christmas, and it is after Christmas,” North says.  
  
“Which would make it the perfect time to attack,” Bunny argues. “Especially since we’re still in the twelve days of Christmas. And since Sandy’s not here—”  
  
“Ah, see! That is why you do not have to worry.” North takes Bunny’s cup, dumps the tea out of it into a mostly-empty punch bowl, and fills it with vodka. “Pitch will definitely not bother attacking if Sandy isn’t here.”  
  
“Look, even you can’t count on the Boogeyman never changing his battle tactics. And you know what, as to your other accusation, my muscles are just fine. I exercise hours every day to keep myself in top condition, and—hey!”  
  
North reaches over and presses his fingers against the join between Bunny’s neck and shoulder. “No, Bunny, I do not believe you. You still need to relax, and if you will not even take a drink, perhaps the only thing to do is a massage.”  
  
“A massage.” Bunny stares at North. “From you. While you’re already pretty far from sober.”  
  
“I do not see anything wrong with this idea,” North says. “You did not seem to like the other gift I gave you, so—”  
  
“Give me the drink,” Bunny says. North does, and Bunny gulps it to avoid seeing the irritatingly benevolently pleased look on North’s face. This is a mistake. “Ugh! What—I knew there was a reason I don’t drink this stuff! This is—this isn’t something a living being should drink!”  
  
“Excuse me, this is best vodka at Pole!” North gestures at him with the bottle. “Very pure!”  
  
Bunny sniffs his glass. “It’s just ethanol and water!”  
  
North opens his mouth and closes it with a snap. “It is not—that is—you must try again. We try different drinks. Until you find one you like.”  
  
“North….”  
  


* * *

  
  
“All right, smart guy,” North says, attempting to poke Bunny in the chest but missing and hitting his armpit (upsetting the drink Bunny holds unsteadily), “What do _you_ think should go with rum?”  
  
“I don’t know, it’s already got a bloody Christmas cookie in it.” Bunny shrugs dramatically, spilling more of his drink on North, half-accidentally. Maybe more than half-accidentally.  
  
“NOT true.” North stirs the small saucepan with exaggerated care. “Is cream and sugar and spices here. No flour, no butter, no baking soda, no salt, no eggs…”  
  
“Do that, then,” Bunny says. He pours himself more…well, he’s not sure. The bottle isn’t labelled, but it’s sweet and colorful and doesn’t taste like pure ethanol. North told him it was supposed to be mixed with other things, but why? “Just put an egg in it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Do it. Just put an egg in it. Whole egg. It’ll make it a collaboration.”  
  
North’s eyes go wide and he grins, and Bunny’s not fast enough anymore to avoid the hug that nearly topples him. “You would collaborate on creating something with me?” he says, as if that’s the greatest Christmas present he’s ever heard of.  
  
“Yeah, sure I would,” Bunny says, and that’s, well, _true_ , but he wanted to sound sarcastic—eh, maybe there’s not enough air in his lungs to make the difference noticeable, anyway.  
  
North squeezes him even tighter for a moment and then releases him to look in his eyes very seriously. “But whole egg might not blend well. Should be just yolks. Whites for…for meringue!”  
  
“We’re topping this thing with _meringue_?" Bunny says incredulously, but North is already off looking for the eggs. Bunny decides to sit down on the floor while he waits. It’s much more stable. Maybe lying down would be even better…  
  


* * *

  
  
Bunny wakes with his face pressed mostly into a pillow, partially into his elbow. He seems to be lying on a rug, which is good, that means that he didn’t fall asleep in the kitchen while waiting for North to find eggs. But then what had happened? His fur smells like…it doesn’t smell like alcohol, oddly enough. It smells like…like North! More than the hug could account for, and well, he hopes he’d only taken him up on the offer of a massage because that was already awkward enough, no matter what North thought. And he does feel relaxed. Aside from the headache. Actually, no, yeah, that has to explain it, if it had been anything else, North wouldn’t have left him on a rug in front of the fireplace, or so he assumes. Why did he even have assumptions for this sort of thing? Maybe…maybe he’d better get up and figure out where North is. That would give him more answers.  
  
He sits up, shading his eyes with his hand. North is nowhere in the immediate vicinity, which probably bodes well. There’s no one else around, either, yeti or elf, and while he can’t figure out the meaning of that, Bunny’s grateful.  
  
Movement of the kitchen doors catches his eye. It’s not North. It’s…Sandy, of all people. Carrying a plate with two egg white omelets on it. And a large cup of off-white liquid that can only be the leftover concoction of the night before. Yes. Bunny can remember _that_. He and North had made more. A lot more.  
  
Sandy raises his glass to Bunny and smiles cheerily. It’s good, he tells him. What is it?  
  
Bunny blinks at him. “It’s got raw egg in it.”  
  
Sandy tilts his head. Healthy?  
  
“Uh…no. Not at all. You know the raw egg kind of detracts from the healthiness of it? Which was already pretty low because of the sugar and booze in it.”  
  
It’s Sandy’s turn to stare in puzzlement, and for a long moment Bunny wonders if Sandy doesn’t understand that alcohol isn’t a health food. He only stops wondering that, actually, because it makes his head hurt more. Finally, Sandy shrugs. Tell North to remind me to return his dishes, he signs.  
  
 _Where are you taking them?_ Bunny almost asks, but he decides against it. Sandy was kind enough not to remark on Bunny waking up at the Pole, so he wasn’t going to ask anything that might lead to an explanation of the dark smudges on Sandy’s face and neck. And his messy hair. And even more content and spaced-out look than normal.  
  
Bunny shivers. Yeah, that’s…not a topic for the hungover to deal with. But—breakfast! Bunny drags himself to his feet. There’s no way he’s letting North make breakfast for him, no matter what did or didn’t happen. Especially if it was, as he hopes, just the massage. North is not allowed to pamper him twice within a day. He’s got to get to the kitchen as soon as possible so _he_ can be the breakfast-maker.  
  
And so he can absolutely prevent leftover egg—eggnog? Was that what North had called it?—anyway, he needs to prevent it from being a breakfast drink. At all costs. Including the previously unimaginable increase of his headache.  
  
Everything else, he realizes reluctantly, is negotiable.


End file.
